The Young Wolf

"It means that Stannis is the heir and the Joffrey is a bastard, like Jon and Alexia." He says, frowning slightly. He doesn’t understand what else it could mean. His family was in King’s Landing with the Lannisters, but they weren’t with Stannis, they wouldn’t be hurt. Maybe they were going to come home.

Robb wished it were as simple as that, "No Stannis' claims are true, or I believe them to be. All of the royal children are bastards born of incest," he sat at the foot of Bran's bed and looked at his brother, unsure for a moment if he knew what incest was, "That's...when blood relatives behave like husband and wife," he explained tentatively, hoping he would not have to delve further into that wasp nest.

"I don't want power," his voice cracked and he crumpled the paper in his fists, "I want my family back."

Bran looks up at his brother, frowning slightly. He can tell something is wrong, but he doesn’t understand what it is. Maybe it’s about Stannis Baratheon deciding to declare himself king. He just hopes that the news isn’t about their parents or sisters. Rickon had a dream about the lions taking them away and the Queen was a Lannister. 

Questions // Open

After Stannis' letter, Robb's decision to call the banners and march south had only been cemented. He had never waged war before but he knew that would be the result of his actions if he took them further. He had not been able to communicate with his family, to ask if this was the right thing to do. He had not been sleeping well, second guessing all of his actions before he had even made them. This was never what he had wanted.

"I should call the banners," he said quietly, lacking the conviction required for such a statement. The paper was clutched so tight in his hands he thought he might tear it in two. That would not change the news it held though, it would not make the words any less true or the implications for the Starks any less.

Rob sighed, he could feel her walls going up. It was true he didn't understand, and with half his family in King's Landing he would give anything to have them near him. They had never lied to him of course, and he couldn't know what it was Alexia had experienced at the hands of the Dornish, "I'm sorry my lady," he said leading the horse back through the stream, "as you wish."

"Not a problem, I hope you would consider us family, I just wonder how it is you can consider us family without a blood connection between us but not those who raised you," he ignored her tone, unafraid of her anger, of whatever righteous indignation her family had caused to rear up in her, "I don't understand it all, but surely they still mean something to you?" He knew they did, if she felt this much hurt over them he was sure she cared. Hate often covered hurt, he remembered hearing once.

Robb spurred the horse forward, the trees around them becoming a blur as the hoof beats became louder. They came to a stop at a stream, usually where he stopped riding, for he didn't know the trail as well on the other side of the stream. They had come quite a ways from Winterfell, now and the sky had lightened to a pale pink colour, something his father always warned meant there would be a storm during the day. Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. Red sky at morning, shepherd take warning.

He offered to go for a ride, so Alexia thought about it as quickly as she could.

Robb laughed at her mocking curtsy, "Such a little lady, Sansa would be jealous of that curtsy," he teased and helped her up onto the horse before climbing on himself. Grey wind had risen from the hay where he was dozing and followed them as Robb lead the horse along one of his favorite trails. He had ridden it many times before and grey wind seemed to recognize where they were going and took his own path through the trees.

"I’m a wonderful swimmer, too bad we can’t swim in Winterfell or we’d freeze to death," he thought of the time he fell in the river. He had only been five or six, he remembered only the rush of water and how it seemed to carry him forever. It had been so cold. It had taken a minute to get under his clothing, like icy fingers spreading up his back and legs, it made him heavy until he felt a hand on his collar, his father’s, fishing him out of the river and carrying him home. He thought he might never be warm again. He had gotten sick, and his mother stayed by his bedside all the time he was ill.

"She would ruin it before she even got to the ball." Bran says. He feels a little bit bad for Sansa. She just wants everything to be nice and graceful but Arya just doesn’t like that. He is closer to Arya then he is Sansa, probably because their ages are more similar and they could play and fight together. Sansa never really liked to fight, she was a little lady.

"Would you have liked --" Robb stops himself. There's no sense in asking questions like that. Bran probably would have liked to go to King's Landing with all the knights but what-if questions never lead down a good road especially now, "I'm sure you're right, I'd put coin on Arya being the winner each time too," Arya was more willing to do things that upset Sansa, where Sansa mostly just called Arya names. It was hurtful in a different way.

Bran smiles slightly and nods at Robb’s suggestion. “I’d like to send Jon and father a letter.” he says. He doesn’t know what he will say. The world seems to have moved on and become interesting for his family while for him it has just been stuck in the same place. “Sansa and Arya, too.”

Robb couldn't help but laugh at the image of his youngest sister at a ball in King's Landing, "She was bad enough at the feast, imagine her in one of those fine silk gowns Sansa was always going on about, her hair all done up," he started to laugh and it was the first time he had in a while, "getting her into that dress would be hard enough and I think she would just ruin it by the end of the night."

Catelyn smiles up at her son. She can see clearly that he is trying to appear older before her very eyes. That he is trying to assure her that this is a burden his shoulders are wide enough to carry. She knows that he does not want to appear weak either in front of her or in front of the people of Winterfell. But she has spoke only the truth to him. His people will respect him when they see that he cares truly for them. That he is stepping up to put their needs before his own at a time when familial comfort is the very thing he craves.

People would continue comparing him to his father, as long as he was Lord in Winterfell likely so he had started to become used to it, though it made him uneasy. He felt he would fall short of the expectations set before him if it was his father who he was to be measured against. Robb wrapped his mother in another tight hug, not caring who was there to see it, "That's impossible I miss you already," his words were muffled against her shoulder but he knew she heard them.